Jewel
by faelyn leaf
Summary: Dimande knows what he wants, and he will do anything to get it. Character sketch ficlet. Warning for Black LadyxDimande. COMPLETE.


Obsession

Dimande had always known what he wanted.

He was a prince. Nearly a king. He was royalty, and royalty always got what they desired. He never accepted substitutes, and didn't tolerate anything less than perfection. It was the way of things, it was what he demanded of friends and sycophants alike. He was a hard man to please, but it would be beneath him to accept anything less.

He liked the jewels on his robes to be flawless. He liked his fine brandy served in delicate crystal glasses. His cape was woven from the softest silks, and his boots made from real leather. Simple pleasures that elevated him above the rest of the Black Moon Clan, and showed sophistication and expert taste. It did not matter to him that these new trinkets had been taken from the Crystal Palace, for everything that was once Endymion's would soon be his.

Endymion was weak, and Dimande had proven that more than once. Hadn't he conquered Crystal Tokyo? Hadn't he plunged Earth into another frozen sleep? He had even defied Pluto and sent his agents into the past. On Nemesis, what could not be held was up for taking. The weak were for exploiting. It was the way of things. It was nature. It was his _right_.

He had Earth. Beautiful; shinning; blue Earth, and Endymion hadn't even put up a fight to keep it. Dimande even had the king's daughter, and with Wiseman's magic, the girl had come willingly. Yes, Endymion was a fool not to firmly grasp onto what was his. What _had_ been his.

And soon enough he would have the king's wife. _Serenity_. Dimande almost moaned her name. He had wanted her as soon as he laid eyes on her. Beautiful, ethereal, and as fine a jewel as anything he wore. A diamond among coal. And oh, how he would love her. His goddess would be his most precious possession, he would drench her in silks and gems, and she would bathe in milk and honey. She would never want for anything, he would see to it. He would give her anything she could ever dream to ask for, and so much more.

What had Endymion given her but a broken city and a ruined castle?

Dimande would protect her. Instead of a fragile white palace, he would build her an impenetrable fortress of dark crystal. He would earn his right to her, and she would find comfort and solace in his arms. Nothing would ever harm her, and she would never again have to sully herself by taking on the repugnant mantle of Sailor Moon. Dimande knew he would make a far better king for her than Endymion ever had.

Dimande had held Serenity once, but, like a dream woven in gossamer, she had slipped through his fingers. He clenched his fists. Endymion had won that round, but Dimande would not make the same mistake again. His next plan would not fail. Serenity would be his.

First ... but first he had to tend to the child. The little rabbit was being most uncooperative.

He found her, sitting at her vanity and starring into its mirror. Her hair was out of its style, and hung down her back in waves. Oh yes, she was beautiful. Any normal man would be a fool not to desire her. To want to possess her — but he was not a normal man, and she was not Serenity.

He watched her struggle with her hair for a moment. The brush was gold, inlaid with with the jewels of his namesake and still too heavy for the rabbit's newly developed woman's body to use with grace. It was a gift Dimande had hoped to present to Serenity; instead her offspring had claimed it. Always trying to fill her mother's shoes, it seemed. And never measuring up.

He waited for her to notice him, but quickly became impatient. He would spare all the time in the galaxy just for his goddess-queen's smile, but her ill mannered daughter was a different beast entirely. "Small Lady," he greet mockingly.

She turned around. "That's not my name!" she hissed.

Dimande eyed her critically, and couldn't help but notice her dress. Black, not white. Different, yet the same. "Of course it isn't," he said soothingly. He bowed to her low and courtly. "Forgive me, Black Lady."

When she nodded curtly, he stood next her and took the brush out of her hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Your hair is tangled," he whispered into her ear. She shivered, and he wondered if Serenity would react the same way. He vowed to find out.

She frowned, the child in the woman's body not understanding even the most basic stage of arousal. Too proud to question, the rabbit stilled when he put his thumb on her lips. Dimande smirked. "Turn around," he said.

She obeyed, and his deft hands went to work. He gently parted any knots with his fingertips, and was careful not to tug on her scalp. He was slow, methodical, and could tell by the way Small Lady's lips parted that it was gratifying for her. When he was sure all the tangles were gone, he ran the brush through her hair, leaving the lush pink locks silky and smooth.

Pink. Gold. Almost the same as Serenity's. Almost, but not quite.

Perhaps she was something different? He pushed her hair back off her shoulders, and ran his fingers along her collarbone.

He saw her eyes flash in the mirror. Red, instead of blue, but the same look of defiance. "I am not my mother," she warned.

"No, no you're not." He kissed her shoulder and the soft curve of her neck. He could see her eyes flutter in her reflexion, and when she moaned he knew he had her.

The rabbit wasn't substitute or a cheap simulacrum. She was a distraction and one he planned to take advantage of. On Nemesis, only a fool would waste resources, and a wise ruler always heeded sound lessons. He was not lowering himself with her, Black Lady was perfect in her own way. A testament to the power of the Dark Moon and to Wiseman. Evidence even Endymion couldn't ignore or dismiss.

Dimande may not have Endymion's wife, not yet, but he did have his daughter. It would suffice; for now.


End file.
